


when there’s trust (there’ll be treats)

by damerons (noblydonedonnanoble)



Series: Author's Favorites [3]
Category: Ex Machina (2015)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bratting, F/M, Face-Sitting, Light Dom/sub, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:56:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29828736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblydonedonnanoble/pseuds/damerons
Summary: Nathan agrees to let you turn the tables in your relationship and tie him up. Turns out he’s a little bit of a brat.
Relationships: Nathan Bateman/Reader
Series: Author's Favorites [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202021
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	when there’s trust (there’ll be treats)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Oscar Isaac Week 2021 on tumblr; prompt: favorite look

“I’m starting to regret this.”

You bite back a smirk as you tighten the leather strap around Nathan’s wrist. It fits him firmly, and when you try to pull it away from his skin, it has just the right amount of give. Perfect. “We haven’t even done anything yet.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “I can’t move my arms. That’s something.”

“Last I checked, that was part of the point.” You make a show of ducking your head down and kissing the heel of his hand, just where the strap stops. “You said you’d be into this, babe.”

Nathan squirms a bit under your touch, making his muscles flex in his arm. You’re not mad about it—his muscles pulled taut as he lies bare beneath you. The image has crossed your mind plenty before now, and it’s just as good as you’d imagined it.

“In my defense, I was about ten seconds from shooting my load when you brought it up.”

Well, perhaps that’s true. Not that you hadn’t _mentioned_ it before; you like it when Nathan dominates you, of course you do, but you’ve long harbored the fantasy of him allowing you to turn the tables. It had never been a flat-out _no_ , but he might have been buried inside you when you got him to say _yes_.

Of course, you’d made sure he agreed when he was clear-headed, too.

You lean in and kiss his cheek, feather-light. “Do you trust me?”

By this point in your relationship, you know him well enough that you’re expecting a snappy retort, but as you hold his gaze, he stares up at you for a few moments before nodding. “You know I do,” he says softly. “I’m just…”

“A control freak?” you offer with raised eyebrows.

He clenches his jaw, but you don’t wait for him to answer before scooting back and rising from the bed. While he’d stripped completely before lying down, you’d remained fully clothed, and he lifts his head to see you. Good—you were planning on putting on a show for him, but you like knowing that he’s so eager to watch.

And what a pretty fucking image he is. Nathan’s arms stretched behind him, bound to the corners of the bed with beautiful new restraints that he picked out (and paid for). He’s half-hard for you already, leaving you with no doubt that he’s _into_ this, despite his misgivings.

“I’ve never trusted someone this much before,” he says. Your fingers falter at the hem of your shirt as you meet his eye. _Fuck_. “I’m not sure I know how.”

Slowly, deliberately, you pull your shirt over your head, gradually revealing your soft skin. It makes Nathan lick his lips, and you smile softly. “What feels right?”

“Touching you would feel right.” His eyes focus on your breasts the moment your shirt is off, lingering for a few moments until he hears you unzip your pants. Then he’s immediately watching you shimmy your hips, thighs, legs free. He makes a noise from somewhere deep in his throat when he realizes that you’re not wearing panties. “Shit, babe, I want you under me so fucking bad.”

You hum to yourself as you kneel on the edge of the bed. Does he? “Do you think you’re the only one who should get to be dominant, babe? Is that it?”

It’s a little gentle goading, just to feel out how he’ll respond, and from the way that his eyes darken, you think you’ve managed to strike a chord. “Maybe you don’t have what it takes.” He smiles to himself, his eyes on your chest again as you slowly remove your bra. “Do you even know how to push me, kitten?”

Oh, you do, and Nathan knows you do. He knows the deftness with which you can push all of his buttons to get him hard and frustrated and _desperate_ for you. So you crawl closer to him, straddling his hips. You can feel his cock pressing up against your ass, which makes you lick your lips… and makes Nathan groan softly, trying to shift up against you harder. “There it is,” you say softly. “Of course my favorite control freak would turn into a brat as soon as he’s tied up. That feels right, doesn’t it, babe? One of the most powerful men in the world, giving up that power in the most obnoxious way possible.”

He smirks up at you. “Is that why you wanted to tie me up? To try and take that power away from me?”

Your stomach flips at the way he is still devouring you with his eyes as he assesses this—the idea of you fantasizing about making him powerless. Based on the way you can feel his erection directly beneath you, it seems safe to say that the thought turns _both_ of you on.

“Are you gonna make it hard for me?”

Nathan tilts his head, appraising you. “C’mon, kitten. You should know the answer to that by now.”

With that, he tries to grind up against you again, but you’re faster, raising yourself up onto your knees to hover over him. Part of you immediately misses the feel of him. Not just his dick, but the warmth of him pressed against your pussy as you straddled him. But here’s the thing about you having the power now: while he immediately makes a disappointed face over the loss of your body, you tuck your hand between your legs, touching yourself.

“I know a lot of things by now,” you whisper. You’re so wet for him, turned on both by the sight of his body splayed out for you and by the petulance in his gaze. While he stares – looking between your face and your fingers like he can’t quite bear to watch either – you coat your fingers in your own arousal before circling them over your clit lightly. “I know you can’t _stand_ the idea of me getting off without you. Gotta be _your_ mouth or _your_ cock or _your_ fingers, isn’t that right, Nathan?”

He twists against his restraints slightly, growling his next words as he watches you. “Damn straight.”

Your gaze drifts from his face to his arms – his exquisite arms, flexing against the restraints – and then to his torso, smooth skin and muscles begging to be touched. You bite your lip as you press your fingers between your folds and into your pussy, relishing the way Nathan exhales sharply.

“I don’t want to get myself off,” you whisper. “I want your cock, Nathan. I want your cock so fucking bad. But if you don’t watch your mouth, I might have to make myself come instead. Understood?”

Nathan’s jaw clenches again, and for a moment, as his eyes narrow, you think that he _is_ going to mouth off. Instead, he nods. “Mhm.”

“Good.” You remove your fingers from your pussy and don’t even give it a moment’s thought before you hold your hand out to him. “Help me out, babe?”

He brightens at once—he fucking loves the taste of you. Never lets you forget it. So he opens his mouth wide, sucking your fingers clean with a particular desperation. When he releases them, he drags his teeth from knuckles to fingertips. He intends for it to push you, you know that, but his gaze softens slightly when you trace those fingers across his cheek and over his beard.

Enough of a balance for now, you suppose.

So you turn your attention to Nathan’s dick. As you’d already suspected when you were sitting on top of him, this has gotten him fucking hard. The sight and feel of it is exhilarating to you—you smooth your thumb over the head of his cock, then slowly – _agonizingly_ slowly, if Nathan’s low whimper is any indication – spread his pre-cum down the shaft. He hardly moves, though, much to your surprise. You’d half expected him to buck up into your hand as soon as it wrapped around his cock.

“Look at you, being so patient for me,” you murmur. “Almost like you know you’ll be inside me faster that way.”

“Maybe,” he concedes. And you can’t help smiling as you line yourself up over him; that’s your Nathan. Ever strategic.

As you sink onto his cock, Nathan lets out an eager groan. “Fuck, baby. Feel so good.”

“ _You_ feel good, baby,” you whisper back. You still with him deep inside you, savoring the fullness of him. Savoring it even more when you feel him squirm, trying to get enough leverage to thrust or move. You settle your hands on his hips, firm enough to stop his movements. “ _There’s_ the impatience.”

“I just—”

You don’t even let him finish the sentence, jumping in at once to chide him. “You just want to decide how we fuck, but that’s not how this works, babe.”

He groans and leans his head back, shutting his eyes. Resigned, at least temporarily. “I want you to move.”

“So whiny when you’re not getting what you want,” you tease. But you do ease off of his cock and take him again, initiating a slow, steady pace as you move over him. Much slower than Nathan likes to go, almost ever. Contrary to what it seems like as he’s begging to fuck you now, he’s generally quite willing and eager to tease and touch you in other ways that have nothing to do with his cock. But once he’s inside you, he wants to go fast and hard and rough.

Perhaps you’re giving him what he asked for, but you know very well that it is not what he wants.

Nathan’s cock twitches inside you as you shift your hips just right, and you note a quirk to his lips moments before he opens his eyes. His dark eyes, pupils blown wide and hooded lids—“Call this a punishment? I’m still inside you.”

You stop moving again, clenching your pussy around him and smiling at the way he moans softly. “What’s that, babe?”

“It’s--” He flexes his arms against his restraints again, betraying the way you’re getting to him even as he tries to be nonchalant. “It seems like you want to ride my cock more than you want to wind me up.”

“Oh, does it?” Your cunt is aching for him, true, and with his dick inside you, you can think of nothing you want more than to climax around him.

But he’s got such a damn smug look on his face that you suspect that particular craving can be saved for later.

Despite his choice to push you, Nathan groans when you lift yourself off his cock and scoot further up the bed. He groans—you see the eagerness, the curiosity in his eyes, but he groans. You sit on his chest, instead, his skin becoming slick with your arousal.

“You want to mouth off until I punish you? Is that it?” You grind down against him, and you can feel the way he instinctively shifts his hips, seeking stimulation that you’re not going to give him. “I think I should leave your dick for later and put that clever little mouth to better use.”

And the thing is, it seems he’s horny enough that this thought hadn’t even _occurred_ to him. You’d set the terms; either you’d ride him, or you’d get yourself off. Adding a third option throws off all the mental math that you know he’s been doing in his head. He stares up at you, equal parts annoyed and aroused.

“What about me?” he whispers.

What about his dick, he means, but for Nathan, those things are about the same. You suck your lower lip into your mouth, biting it as you consider him. Again, you feel him squirm beneath you. “Maybe I’ll suck you off if you eat me out right.”

Nathan actually fucking whimpers as you shift over him again. Before settling on his face, you take hold of his hands, your fingers slotting together easily and the leather cool against your wrists. There’s a hint of softness in his gaze when you look down at him and say, “Thumbs if you want to stop.” How many times has he rearticulated that specific cue for _your_ sake before covering your mouth or making you go down on him?

From the way his tongue is on you at once, though, it is clear that he is desperate to taste you.

Nathan is _good_ at this, and he knows it. Normally he has his fingers at his disposal, too, and he likes to use them, but you don’t even miss them as he licks between your folds. You feel him everywhere all in one go, circling your clit, fucking your cunt with his tongue and chasing the taste of your arousal.

Then there’s that good, good burn of his beard against your thighs. His tongue touches you just right and you grind against his mouth, which only makes his beard scratch more. It is a rich, agonizing combination of feelings that prompts you to moan, squeezing his hands tight.

“So good, babe,” you whimper. “You use that tongue just right.”

In response, he growls against your pussy; the vibrations race through you, and you let out a gasp.

“Love that this shuts you the fuck up.” Your breath catches at the end of the sentence as Nathan tilts his head, grazing his beard across your cunt. “This is what your mouth is good for.”

His fingernails dig into the backs of your hands at your words, but he doesn’t falter in his ministrations. If anything, he re-doubles his efforts, drawing increasingly eager moans from you as his tongue pushes you closer and closer to the edge.

You roll your hips and pull at his hands as you come, trembling and breathless and riding his chin hard. He continues to lap at your folds, his touch more tender now that he’s already brought you release.

As your orgasm subsides, you glance at one of Nathan’s wrists and realize that the strap has absolutely dug into his skin from how hard you were yanking on him. How many times has he sat over you, tenderly caring for similar cuts and markings that he left on you? Your stomach flips at the thought of it—he so rarely lets you take care of him, in or out of the bedroom. You hadn’t realized that the thought of aftercare would thrill you just as much as having him bound underneath you.

What really gets you, though, is that – even with his protests – Nathan is _into_ it. You lean back, sitting perched on your heels, and as you release your grip on his hands, you hear the way he hisses as he tries to reposition his wrists so that the restraints don’t rub his tender skin too hard. You _see_ the way his pupils are blown wide as he blinks up at you.

Traces of your arousal have left his mouth and beard glistening, and you watch him lick his lips clean. Fuck.

Nathan raises his eyebrows at you, then. “You gave me my punishment, kitten. Did I take it to your satisfaction?”

Oh, what a very good question.

Swallowing hard, you lean your head down, coming agonizingly close to his face. He tries to lift his head to meet you, but you pull back—just out of reach. “By which you mean, ‘Will you put your mouth on my cock now.’”

He smirks; you can feel it, almost, against your lips. “Are you offering?”

Insufferable.

You can’t wait to make him come.

First, though… You do kiss him, light and lingering while he lies there, completely stationary. The moment he tries to press in, closer, you pull away. “Yeah, I’m offering.”

Nathan licks his lips when you settle between his legs, completely shameless about rolling his pelvis up toward you. Shameless about the fact that he is hard and dripping and eager for you.

With your first gentle lick along the shaft, he is _needy_.

Because again: Nathan is accustomed to having his hands. He gets fucking grabby when you go down on him, clutching your head, pulling your hair, keeping you in place so that he can fuck your mouth. But you hold his hips down and take his cock into your mouth and there’s not a fucking thing he can do about it.

“Fuck, baby,” he gasps, when you hollow your cheeks in just the way he likes. “I don’t…”

He loses the train of thought when you take him deep, making his cock twitch against the back of your throat. Instead of words, a needy whine comes out.

Any of his reluctance to being tied up has faded into distant memory, that much you know. He stammers sporadic expletives as he strains against the leather restraints, strains against your grip on his hips, and it is the prettiest picture you’ve ever seen. You recognize, in his face, an expression that he wears sometimes when he’s buried deep inside you, your legs around his waist and both of you near climax—

That expression says _I don’t want this to end_.

Nathan comes in your mouth, and you swallow every drop.

You wipe your hand over your mouth when you sit up, more than a little pleased by the way he’s still trembling. His eyes are glassy, eager for you when you crawl on top of him – your chest pressed flush against his – and give him a long, tender kiss. The first real kiss you’ve shared since you got his hands in the restraints.

“Are you impressed?” he whispers when you finally pull away.

Fucking ridiculous—Nathan Bateman always needing to impress. But you nod, because it’s true. “Mhm.” Then, softly, tenderly, you say, “Let’s take care of those wrists.” Already climbing off the bed to retrieve the med supplies from the nearby cabinet.

It’s while you’re dabbing anti-inflammatory cream on his wrists that he says it. Looking at your hands, rather than you. “I guess we can do that again sometime. For longer. If you want.”

 _Oh_. You really, really do.


End file.
